


Bottled Up

by h0ll0w_m00n



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Addiction, Gen, PTSD, Paranoia, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, also this is post dr3 anime, and kyoko actually died bc im not a coward, fukawa toko - Freeform, naegi komaru - Freeform, only mentioned - Freeform, this started as a vent fic and spiraled out of control, wasnt intended to be naegami but it can be if u want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 00:40:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21419344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0ll0w_m00n/pseuds/h0ll0w_m00n
Summary: It's been years since the first killing game. They're both in their 20's and both have to cope with their trauma. Makoto finds out he and his boss, best friend, and former classmate are much more similar than he had originally thought. Is this a good or bad thing?This started as a vent fic and then fleshed out into my hcs about the survivors after the killing game.
Relationships: Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	Bottled Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic that I'm posting here! I haven't posted my writing online in about 7 years, so it's kind of nerve-wracking, haha. Please let me know what you think! I'm a little rusty.

"I know this isn't much, but would you like anything? Tea? Coffee?" Makoto gestured to his small kitchen as Byakuya sat down on at stool by the countertop. With a slender finger, he had pointed past Makoto with an unreadable expression. The smaller man turned, trying to pinpoint what he was pointing at. "Oh, coffee?" He pointed at the coffee pot and looked back at his boss. Byakuya shook his head and wordlessly gestured to the left with his head. Makoto looked again and furrowed his eyebrows, an immediate sense of dread filling his chest. He tried pushing it down, telling himself he's overthinking.  


"You mean this?" He reached and held up a glass bottle of whiskey. Byakuya nodded. Makoto was confused. One thing he knew about Byakuya was that he did not drink. Whether it's a company-wide party or the yearly remembrance gathering they had with Aoi, Yasuhiro, and Toko- he just didn't drink. His boss, former classmate, and fellow survivor did a lot of things that intrigued him. The heinous acts he pulled in the game. The acts that he pushes back into the deepest depths of his mind, even further past all of the murders. Somehow living day to day with someone who strung up their friend's corpse as well as framing another for murder was still hard for Makoto to process. But as he stands in front of this man he still considers his close friend, he sees an expression wash over his face. One he has never seen before.  


"Are you just going to stand there and be useless like you're so accustomed to? It would be polite to pour your guest a glass, wouldn't you agree, Naegi?" Byakuya spat, glaring at him through pale eyelashes. Makoto's face reddened as he quickly fumbled for a glass out of the cupboard. One thing will never change: Byakuya making Makoto feel like a complete fucking idiot. He murmured an apology as he set the lone glass in front of him. The heir raised an eyebrow. "Are you not joining me?"  


"Togami it's-" Makoto is lost for words for a brief moment. "-it's 10 in the morning.." He trails off, looking away awkwardly. The clink! of the glass made him dart his eyes back to his boss. The glass was empty and Byakuya stared at it with the same blank expression.  


"I know you suffer in the desolate wasteland known as the middle class, Naegi, but would it kill you to get some decent whiskey?" He scoffed as if it were a great offense. Makoto immediately argued back.  


"You don't drink. How would you even-"  


"You think I was groomed to be as successful as I am without being trained to taste the best of the best? Don't insult my family name like that." Byakuya cut him off with a sharp objection- and a sharper stare. He wasted no time reaching for the bottle with one fluid motion and pouring himself another glass. Like usual, Makoto was confused by the man's actions. He invited himself over to discuss a work related project, not to casually drink and hang out.  


The glass hit the counter with another clink! and somehow Makoto had missed seeing him drink again. That small feeling of dread grew as Byakuya wasted no time reaching for the bottle once more.  


"Togami-"  


"What is it, Naegi?" Byakuya didn't even glance his way as he set the bottle down and raised the glass to his lips and tossing his head back. The whiskey went down effortlessly. Somehow the man made everything he does look effortless, even downing three glasses of whiskey within a few minutes. "Well?"  


"I-" Makoto coughed, the smell overwhelming. He was somewhat of a lightweight, so he doesn't drink a lot. "I want to know the real reason you're here," Byakuya raises an eyebrow and a hint of a smile graces his lips. Knowing the man the way he did, Makoto presumed it was more of a cocky smirk. "If I'm to be honest, you're scaring me, Togami."  


"I'm scaring you? Hm." A small chuckle escapes. "The funny thing is I feel the same way." Byakuya pours another glass.  


"I.. scare you?" Makoto starts, unsure.  


"No, you idiot," He sighs, throwing his fourth glass of whiskey back. "I scare me." He coughs, the first fault in his picture perfect demeanor. Rolling his eyes, he blows a short breath out his nose before his eyes wander back to the bottle. Before he could process the implications of what the man had just said, Makoto meets his gaze and snatches the bottle off the counter. Byakuya also reached for it, but his movements were slow and delayed. The smaller man slowly backs away. "Naegi. What on Earth do you think you're doing right now?" For once, Makoto knew this was a rhetorical question. A threat. It was clear in the tone of his voice and the way his expression shifted into a glower. He swallowed nervously. He was scared. He kept backing up until his back hit the wall. Byakuya slowly rises from his seat.  


"Togami.. Are you.. okay?" Makoto slowly asked, albeit reluctantly. Byakuya moved faster than he was expected and had his tie tight in a fist before he could even realize. The former Ultimate Hope froze.  


"Naegi, what do you think? What do you.. effing.." Byakuya's face contorted, as if struggling to process the emotion he was feeling. He looked away, grinding his teeth- all sense of composure gone. When he looked back, Makoto wasn't expecting to see tears. "Makoto. What do you fucking think?" His voice cracked pathetically. Byakuya using his first name and cursing in one breath wasn't something he thought he would ever hear. He couldn't tell if he was mad or sad or-  


"Do you.. want to talk?" Makoto offered, still fearful. Byakuya immediately yanked at his tie harshly before dropping it. He slammed his open hand into the wall behind Makoto. Makoto jumped, honestly fucking terrified. With no idea what Byakuya's next reaction would be, he stood still, trying to quiet his nervous breathing.  


The heir's lip quivered and his entire body was shuddering. As if all the life was sucked out of him, he collapsed onto Makoto, his face buried in the crook of his neck. Makoto dropped the bottle instinctively, trying to catch the man. The bottle shattered and he realized Byakuya was sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder, not drunkenly stumbling like he had initially thought. Byakuya dug his fingers into the fabric of Makoto's blazer- strong enough that he thought he might have to buy a new one. His apartment was silent except for the desperate cries of his friend. He wasn't sure what to do. This was once someone who he considered an enemy. As the years went on, he grew to consider Byakuya his closest friend. Even if the man was quite reserved, Makoto could somehow tell he felt the same way. But now.. he doesn't know what's going on. He's never seen him like this. He's never-  


"Do you.." Byakuya managed to speak. He coughed uncontrollably, his crying was getting so bad he was making himself dry heave. "Do you feel guilty.. Makoto?" Makoto flushed.  


"Togami? About what?"  


"About.. p-prosecuting our friends to d-die." Byakuya's face never left Makoto's shoulder, desperately pressing it against his neck. He was still sobbing horribly. Makoto assumed he didn't want him to see; as if that somehow preserved whatever dignity he had left.  
It was a loaded question. On one hand, he did feel a small amount of guilt at the time. He didn't want to send anyone to die, but it's not like he knew these people. But as the years went on and he recalled his high school memories, it got worse. The overwhelming guilt, the nightmares, the thought of just giving up, oh fuck it could be so easy to just blow his fucking-  


"I'm a bad person, Makoto." Byakuya cut off his thoughts. He started talking again, as if whatever Makoto said had no effect on his answer. As if he didn't care how Makoto felt as much as he wanted to share how he felt. "I did bad things, Makoto." The air went still. "I shouldn't be here." Byakuya's knees buckled and he slumped to the floor, falling right on his ass. Makoto fell to his knees, desperately trying to support him. The perfectly tailored grey slacks slowly turned brown as the alcohol from the long forgotten dropped bottle seeped into the fabric. Makoto cursed and started apologizing.  


"I'm so sorry, I'm an idiot-"  


"No you're not, Makoto," His expression softened. The tears wouldn't stop falling but he somehow looked the most real he's seen him. The sorrow on his face was overwhelmingly heavy. "You deserve to be here." Makoto didn't know exactly what he meant.  


"What do you mean 'here?' In my apartment? It's okay, I invited you in, you don't have to-"  


"No, Makoto," His name sounded so foreign in Byakuya's voice. "I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have made it out of that.. fucking game." Makoto's heart sank. Before he could interject, the man started talking again. "After remembering our high school years.. After remembering how much we all cared for each other.. And how I just-" Byakuya heaved violently. Makoto thought he was going to puke from the alcohol, but the look of disgust and hatred that spread across the other man's face suggested otherwise. Makoto didn't dare to speak. "I fucking-" He slams his fist into the ground. He takes a sharp inhale. "Fuck! Fuck! Fucking fuck-" He started slamming his fist down over and over again, completely overtaken with rage. "She went through enough, Makoto! I fucking ruined her!" He points a finger in Makoto's face, almost hitting him. Makoto focuses on his hand. It was full of glass shards and completely covered in blood. He paled and realized what Byakuya had done. He quickly reaches and takes the injured hand into his own, stumbling for words.  


"Togami-"  


"Don't fucking call me that ever again," Byakuya grabbed his tie again with his uninjured hand. "Don't you dare.." The fury on his face quickly switched to an expression of desolation. His sobs started up again. "I d-don't want to hear that name ever again, Makoto.. Please.." He sniffled loudly before meekly letting go of his friend's tie again.  


"B-Byakuya," That sounded weird. "Have you told anyone? Have you told anyone any of this?" Byakuya shakes his head slowly.  
"We're what, 22? We were 17 at the time? Or was it 19? I can't even remember what's real or not anymore, it's pathetic! I still can't get over this bullshit!!" He tried slamming his other hand down, but Makoto catches it before he can hurt himself anymore. This seemed like a bad time to remind Byakuya that he was actually 23 on account of Makoto being three months older than him. It seemed like a surefire way to get a fist in the face. He continued, not removing his hands from Makoto's grasp.  


"I.. would rather not remember." Was he saying what he thought he was saying? "If I just didn't remember what happened before, I wouldn't feel so fucking guilty about what I did. I could better detach myself from my actions. I could better justify what I did as necessary for survival," He stares Makoto in the face long and hard before shaking uncontrollably again.  


"Hey, Tog.. Byakuya. In your mind you did what you had to to survive. So did everyone. You're not alone. Our friends wouldn't kill someone outside the game, but things are different when you're trapped, desperate, and scared. Don't you think Aoi feels guilty as well? She tried to kill all of us. You're not alone, Byakuya. Please know this," Makoto's gaze doesn't leave Byakuya's tearful eyes. He feels dizzy. Whether it's the smell of the alcohol or blood, he's unsure. What's more important is helping his friend. "It's been years.. Why haven't you talked about how you're feeling?"  


"What kind of Togami would I be if I wasn't the perfect human? If I felt this way I would be ruined. Better to bottle it up and pretend it's not there. Otherwise, it would stain me."  


"Wouldn't you agree this is way worse? Having a drunken mental breakdown in your coworkers kitchen at ten in the morning? How is this healthy, Byakuya?" The heir freezes, staring back at Makoto.  


"I'm.. I'm sorry. I'm a fool," He tries to stand up but his legs are shaky. Makoto holds his arms steady and guides him back to the stool. "I came into your home and made a complete fool of myself. Please, let me clean this up-" Makoto stops him.  


"No. Let me help you with your hand," He leaves to get the first aid kit tucked under his bathroom sink. It was much larger than what was customary for an average household, but Makoto gets paranoid. He comes back to see Byakuya staring at the liquid and shattered glass with a guilty look on his face.  


Makoto pretends he didn't notice and sits next to him, taking his hand in his own. He starts picking out tiny pieces of glass with a pair of tweezers. Byakuya doesn't even flinch. The apartment was silent once more. Was he sobering up from the realization that he drunkenly spilled his deepest feelings to someone for the first time? Makoto thought about it some more. Why did he come over? Did he actually want to talk about work until he saw the bottle and something changed inside of him? Or did he come here subconsciously wanting to talk to Makoto about what he's feeling? Or maybe completely purposefully. He glances up at Byakuya. He's staring straight ahead, not looking at anything at all. Is he just separating himself from his actions again?  


"You look like her." Byakuya breaks the silence suddenly. "Kyoko, I mean." Makoto's heart gets heavy. It's been almost three years. He can still feel the small influences of her curiosity seeping into his thought process. Questioning everything. Or was he just masking his paranoia for something more comforting? He's doing it again.  


"I.. miss her," Makoto breathes.  


"I'm.. sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't get inside sooner to help," Byakuya apologized, with no hint of slurred speech. Makoto looks back up at him. His face softened when we saw the expression on Byakuya's face. No mask of the former Ultimate Affluent Progeny. No hiding behind a mask of alcohol. A true, genuine expression of compassion. Makoto held back the tears that desperately wanted to fall. It went silent again. The pile of bloodied glass on the counter got swept into the bin. Byakuya stayed quiet as the smaller man started cleaning the open cuts and bandaging them. "When did you learn to do this?" Byakuya asked as he closed his bandaged fist, clearly surprised by Makoto's handiwork.  


"I learned to do a lot of things. I just.. want to be prepared, y'know? What if something happens and I can't do anything about it? I need to be ready," He looks away, not wanting to let on how bad his paranoia was at times. Especially after what happened when his dear friend got kidnapped. Especially after what happened with his sister. He needed to support Byakuya right now, not burden him with his own problems. That can wait for another discussion for another day. He motioned for Byakuya to stay seated as he started to clean up the broken bottle.  


"But-"  


"I dropped it. It's my bottle and my apartment. Don't worry about it," Makoto smiled softly before throwing away all the garbage and soaking up the liquid. "Do you.. want to go get breakfast somewhere?"  


"I would love to, but you failed to remember my soiled trousers," He gestures down at the whiskey soaked pants. "And your clothes definitely won't fit me. How about.. a raincheck? Would that be acceptable for the savior of hope, Makoto Naegi?"  


"That's fine," He laughs sheepishly and follows Byakuya as he heads for the door. "Please, get home safe." He opens the door for him.  
Byakuya laughs. "You don't need to worry about that." He takes his keys out of his pocket and presses a button. His fancy sports car roars to life and the driver door slides open. Insufferable. Byakuya opens his mouth as if to say something but decided against it, strutting towards his car without another word.  


Makoto waves before shutting the door and locking all the separate locks he installed. He sighs and starts slowly walking back to his bedroom. Seeing Komaru's empty room almost sends him into a brief panic before he remembers she's out on breakfast date with Toko. Laughing to himself, he closed his bedroom door behind him and collapses on his bed, emotionally drained. Him and the stoic man were much more alike than he had originally thought.


End file.
